Category Archives: Folk Tale

Troll Bridge… Stuart France

* Black-Jack-Davey had been on the road since sun-up. As twilight descended filching the last of the colour from his day he came upon a village. Up ahead he could make out a little stone bridge and what he took … Continue reading

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Harvest of Wyrms… Stuart France

* ‘The Witch’, they called her but she minded not, tending to her herbs and the animals and birds which nature’s highest intelligence brought to the garden of her single roomed house knowing her abilities to hold and to heal… … Continue reading

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‘Heart and Soul’… Stuart France

* The first key… Bigger than me… and inside, a box; identical but smaller, in order to fit, with another key. * Key number two… As big as you… whose mote is my beam, now clearly seen as I click … Continue reading

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Time travelling: The ghosts of Repton…

After our visit to the wonderful church at Breedon, with its wealth of carved Saxon stonework, it seemed only right to call at Repton, less than ten miles away… and probably much closer in the days when horse and foot … Continue reading

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Tom Banjo… Stuart France

* Down the dark stairwell,  a silent progress plotted. ‘Twas death in that  house were Tom but spotted. …He reached the door, a tree clad Owl hooted. Three seconds more and Tom was Seven League Booted. One stride it took … Continue reading

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Armoury Show… Stuart France

* The prosperous town of Armore was built next to a forest. Late one night Old-Man-Log came out of the forest and sat down in the middle of the town’s market square. He opened up the palm of his right … Continue reading

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Threshold… Stuart France

* We live with hidden presences. The village street, its air heavy under the hot sun, its surface baked hard beneath our feet, is lined with dwellings. Vessels of the, as yet, unknown… Before we enter any one of these … Continue reading

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Names Matter: vittles… Stuart France

* …The king he were a comin’ down the street an he hard her sing, but what she sang he couldn’t hare, so he stopped and said: ‘What were that you was a singun of, maw’r?’… …The woman, she were … Continue reading

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Names Matter… Stuart France

“What’s your name? Why, it’s pudding and tame. And if you ask me again I’ll tell you the same.” Children’s Rhyme. Once there were a woman and she baked five pies. When they came out of the oven they was … Continue reading

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A Thousand Miles of History XXXXIII: Twin bridges…

We were nearing the end of the road across Dartmoor and it was definitely time for refreshments. This was handy, as I wanted to stop anyway… and we could not leave Devon without at least one cream tea, even if … Continue reading

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